Noteworthy
by xIzzyandSiriusx
Summary: This is the story of a not-so-real love, one of the many of him. Rated M for language. Oneshot SBOC. Please read and review! I wanted a sequel, but i couldn't think of a good enough title, so it's now a twoshot, possibly three.


A/N: Started last night, continued this afternoon, hopefully finished by tonight. This is based off a true story. Except without all the magic. The song in the beginning is Thunder by Boys Like Girls. Please review!

)--*--(

_Two days of wanting more,_

_That's taking me to places that I didn't want to go, whoa,_

_Today in the blink of an eye,_

_I'm holding on to something,_

_And I do not know why, I tried_

_I tried to read between the lines_

_I tried to look in your eyes,_

_I want a simpler explanation,_

_Want to feel it inside,_

_Got to find a way out,_

_Maybe there's a way out._

)--*--(

You know, I have to say, you really fucked my life up. You messed up everything for me. Not everything, to be honest. But as a sixteen year old girl, your love life _is_ everything.

Anyway, so, in the beginning, it was about the same as any other guy who turns your life upside down. I barely knew you existed. I didn't know anything about you. I knew your name. I knew you were in almost all of my classes. I knew that, and nothing more.

But then... after a while, we became friends. Then friends who flirted a lot. And who acted in love sometimes. I guess it was okay for you. At least, if it wasn't, you didn't show it. Me, I hated it after a while. I did like you, really I did. But I'm a romantic girl, and seeing you treat me as just another ordinary girl... it killed me. I couldn't stand seeing you flirt with me, then all of a sudden turn around and flirt with someone else. I tried not to let you see. If you really cared, I thought, you would notice. You would see through me.

And then came that fateful day. I remember everything about it, except the date. For some reason, that day escapes me. Anyway, I can still see myself sitting on my bed, writing an essay. My iPod headphones were stuck in my ears, one of the only relics I brought from my Muggle life. The need for music was just too deep. I was leaned against the bottom post, brushing my hair back as it fell out of its messy ponytail. I stuck my pencil in between my teeth as I fixed it.

There suddenly came a knock at the door. Someone from back near the bathroom called, "Answer it, will you? I'm about to get into the shower. I sighed and uncrossed my legs, dropping my half-finished essay on the red bedspread. I opened the door. There was nobody there.

Instead of a person, there was a tightly folded note on the floor. I picked it up. It had one letter on the front. J. I thought for a moment. The girls in our dorm were Lily, Marlene, Alice, Mary, Steph, and me, Juliet. So, logically, J could only mean me. It said:

_Hey._ I stared at it for a second. Even though I know not to talk to strangers, it was just a note, right? One little hey never hurt anyone. So I grabbed my pencil and scrawled in my loopy half-print half-script, _hey._ I folded it up and wrote From above the J. I stuck it back under the door.

A minute later, the page came back again. It said, _You do know who this is, right? _I sighed. Of course I didn't. I flipped the page over, looking for more room to reply. On the back was a detailed drawing of a full moon, with three beautiful animals below it. In the corner, in the same handwriting as that first _Hey_, it said © Sirius Black. I went back to the end of his message. _Of course I know who this is. PS: the copyrighted drawing kind of gave it away. _ After a moment- _Damn. I thought I had you fooled. _

I smiled. I went to sit by the door so I could pass the notes more easily. For a while, we talked about music. You quoted song lyrics to me. It was all painfully sweet, almost too innocent for the guy I'd come to know and love, until the message- _I'd like to get deep in you._ If I remember correctly, my response was something close to what the fuck.

I'd like to point out here, it was you who started it. Don't even try to blame this on me. It was always you who started the conversations. It was definitely only you who was perverted. I did go along with it, but because I didn't want to lose you.

Over time, it got worse. You were more romantic, more sick. But only in the notes. It was never in person. Was it because you could deny everything, if anyone asked? Was it because you knew no one could make fun of you for your choice in girls? Was it so only you and I could know the truth? Why the hell was it?

And I still hated it. I wanted something more from you. But I never got it, so I had no choice but to stick with it. I think it's because you were addictive. More addicting than spearmint tictacs. So much worse.

That continued for a while. But then, as if there wasn't enough drama in my life, you decided to add something new. You asked me who I liked. I (casually, I hope) denied everything. My real answer (you) would scare you away, for sure. So I kept it to myself.

You said_, I like someone in school_. I'm in your school. _She likes me too, a little bit_. Maybe I was right, and he could sort of see through me. It was definitely a possibility.

But it wasn't me. It was Steph. And all of a sudden, she was all you talked about. Every song you heard became dedicated to her. You said you missed her all the time. It was then that I knew I had to make a choice. A multiple choice.

If Character A seems to like Character B, but then says he likes someone else, Character B should-

a) go on as usual, refusing to accept that A doesn't love her. He _is_ a good liar.

b) ignore A, and make him realize what he's missing. Flirt with other guys excessively.

c) confront A about it. Ask what's really going on.

Now, with all multiple choice questions you don't know the answer to, there's a simple way to figure it out. Guess B.

So I tried ignoring you. I stopped writing notes. When you sent a note, I said the minimum amount possible. In class, I made sure to flirt with other guys, especially in front of you. I stopped doing that thing we do in Charms where I leave my legs under your desk and we playfully kick each other back to their own side. It was a brilliant plan. It lasted for all of two weeks.

I tried, honestly I did. I would not flirt with a guy who had a girlfriend (since you were going out with Steph). But as I said, you made spearmint tictacs look like a sweet candy. Then it was Monday, about a week after I figured out (with Lily's help) that you really were dating Steph. You wrote on the corner of James' notebook, _Me 'n_ _Steph broke up_. Silly James. He asked how you broke her lip. You whispered, "No, we broke up." As you said that, you glanced at me. I took that glance to heart. Instantly, I kicked my bag out of the way and stuck my feet out under your desk. You tapped the top of my Converse. We were back. I don't know what messed-up thing we were again, but the important thing is that we actually _were_ again. I couldn't have been happier.

That night, I sent a note. I asked for homework. To my credit, I really didn't know what it was. You told me. Then you asked if I could go by the door. I practically ran over a few little girls on my way. Almost instantly, you were once again your usual, perverted, lovable self. It took me a while, but I finally gathered up the courage to write, _you moved on from Steph fast, wow._ A note shot under the door seconds later. _But you always knew I loved you. 33. _I stopped breathing. I may have even blacked out for a second. I couldn't believe it. This was the first concrete, definite statement I had gotten from you. But the words were there, right there on the page.

And after that, it got worse and worse. You turned everything I said into a compliment, a perverted comment, or a way to confess your love. Or at least I thought it was love. Every time you said something like that (which was often, believe me), I felt a little sick. At the time, I dismissed it as love sickness. Right. Now I know I was actually sick to my stomach.

But then all of a sudden, it stopped. You stopped sending notes. Sure, you answered when I sent you one. But you always left after a few minutes. So I kept asking you questions, thinking you had to answer.

Then a note was shoved under the door the other day. _You keep asking me shit and it's kind of annoying. No offense._ I stared at it. Did you really mean it? I had no choice to but to believe it. I knew then I had to tell you some of what I was feeling. I spent hours trying to decide what to tell you and how to say it. I was thinking I had 5 options.

Should Character B tell Character A-

a) the Hurtful Choice.

b) the Nice-And-Easy Choice

c) the Truthful Choice

d) the Sad-It's-Over-But-It-Had-To-End Choice

e) None of the Above.

Since I had no idea, I closed my eyes and pointed. I landed on C. Truth is always a good option.

But then there was the problem of what was the truth? Did I want to tell you exactly what you had done to me? That I was incredibly pissed at you, not because you were mean or annoying to me, but I couldn't get you out of my head? That I had a whole playlist of songs I couldn't listen to because they reminded me too much of you? That I didn't love you anymore? That I didn't ever really love you? That I wondered how many girls you had said those exact same things to? That I couldn't believe I was so stupid to actually believe it all?

Most of all, I wanted to know why. Why did you start this in the first place? Why did you suddenly get tired of me, drop me just like that? Why did you like me, if you even did? And then, what were we after all? Were we ever anything, or was it all just in my head? Did you mean any of it? Were you that good of an actor that I swallowed every lie you threw at me? Was I just reading more into everything than there was to read? And while I was at it, were we ever friends? Or was our "friendship" just a part of your plan? What _was _ your plan? Did you mean to rip up my heart in the process of your sick little game? And how many girls, exactly, did you try this out on? Was I the only one stupid enough to believe, even for a second, that it could be real? And even if you did actually love me, I didn't care. It was time to say goodbye. You deserved to have your heart broken.

Then, I had a whole list of phrases I was aching to tell you. I covered everything from I love you to fuck you, and everything in between.

Addictions seem great at first, don't they? I mean, you have to like them, otherwise you wouldn't start being obsessed with them. But then, once you get too dependent on them, they let you down. Not gently. You fall hard.

)--*--(

I folded up my whole note, telling our whole story, into a tight square. I paused the song on my iPod and shoved it under the door. I had fallen hard for you. Now I just had to find my way back up.


End file.
